Sunday, March 6, 2011

A Sunny Day


Verdant green
foreshadows the coming
of Spring
Despite a fresh blanket of snow
covering the mud puddles again.

A halo of flowers
bids haste
to sunshine’s warming balms


Happy Spring and Happy Sunday
to Monkey Man 
and all his friends at the Sunday 160.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Saturday's Email of the Week: Diet Tips


~Happy Saturday All~

This informative video has helped me get to where I am today!
  Umm, well maybe only some days... Enjoy!

Oh, and pop a cold one for me later, as you think of me crawling towards the fridge for my diet aids.


Friday, March 4, 2011

Slippery out There

I slid down the driveway
  trying to scrape off the van
I slid up the path
   Attempting to take the kids to school
I slid around the corner
   trying to limp the van home
Then gave up
   And drove to the shop

Ice or no ice
It is time to get the brakes done $$


Miserly me is squeaking in 55 slim words for G-Man today. Won't be able to afford any more once I get the repair bill this aft!

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

The Visitor

Stumbling in
with a fearful grin.
Will they show smiles
or toss me out to snow piles?

Why soever do I doubt
my fain erstwhile clout
for hugs did abound
& remembrances astound

dear friends counted true
time no match for you
inquiries honest thought
and sincerity truly bought

This passage marches on
and workmates, some gone,
but delightful none the same
despite leaving the repair game.

For they were mates by
punch-clocks cry.
Yet friends of mine
those forever I find.


$$$

Hey-
I can just barely squeak this under the wire
I am going to link this up to One Shot Wednesday
and perhaps do a little more visiting tomorrow.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

The Interpretation of a Poem

calico cat naps
snuggled under purrs of love
stretching the moment


Last night I read poetry to my girlies before I went out. I read selected poems from the chapbook that I created for my book club. I read some of my poems, and some from many other poets, known and not-so-much. At four and six, they don't care if the poets are wildly famous or not. They just like the sound of words strung together. 

In fact, the ladies of my book club didn't really care if the poets within the pages of the chapbook were known or not either. I know that I dragged some of them to the table of poetry, but for their part they were game to play along with my suggestions. Did I get any converts to a passion for poetry? Yes? No? Probably not so much, but they all claimed to like the experience. I read a few poems and they all exclaimed that the poems sounded so much better for the reading of them. I myself often read aloud words as I write them down, as I too like to hear how something sounds. If it doesn't sound right or flow right, then words are just scribbles on a page. 

Ah, but true poetry is all in the readers interpretation. This I found fascinating over the evening. I was surprised by people's reactions to poems, that I had never thought of. Poems that I had grooved on, were passed over, while other poems were held in high esteem. Interpretation and personal bias is key. No one is right or wrong in their opinions, and I hope that I allowed everyone to express themselves, without fearing to hurt my feelings. No matter, the experience was a good one and an experiment I might try again. 

Of the poem at the top, I wrote it for my daughter. T kept encouraging me to read another poem and another, until it was almost time for me to go. She likes to hear the poetry I create, and I in my turn love to share my meager creativity with her. She suggested that I should write a poem about a cat, so I used our dear Miss Kitty as inspiration this evening. She seems always to be a sleepy ball of fur, and now I should take my cue from her. 

Good night my friends and thank you to those of you who allowed me to share your few precious words with me. I am indebted to your kindness and offer you payment in loving kindness sent to you. Peace.

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